


then i'll command your boat to me again

by likewinning



Series: little beasts [100]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-19 09:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22441933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: "I never could hold you back."
Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
Series: little beasts [100]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/271950
Comments: 19
Kudos: 91





	then i'll command your boat to me again

When Jason gets to the manor, Bruce is passed out on the couch, _Home Alone 2_ playing on Bruce's obnoxiously big television.

"I hate this one," Jason says, tugging on Bruce's hair uncerimoniously to wake him up. Bruce blinks up at him, looks at the TV, then back at Jason. "That fucking bird lady," Jason says. "I mean yeah, okay, she saves him and all, but she's _so_ creepy."

There's no room on the couch because Bruce's giant ass takes up the whole thing, so Jason kneels down in front of him instead. Bruce looks almost vulnerable like this, puffy-eyed and confused, but Jason knows there's still a loaded glock taped underneath the sofa, a switchblade behind at least one of the paintings on the wall.

"Hello, Jason," Bruce says. He turns on his side so he can see him better, and Jason smells whiskey on his breath.

"Hey, boss," Jason says. "Where's your fucking Christmas tree?" he asks, and Bruce rolls his eyes. 

"Well," Bruce says, and yeah, he's definitely awake now. "None of you actually live here anymore, so I don't have to put up with ridiculous requests for twenty feet trees or dancing elves on the lawn or _whatever_."

Jason grins. "Those were all Dickie's ideas. _I_ just asked you to dress up as Santa."

"Which I did not," Bruce says.

"Nope," Jason agrees. "Tool."

Bruce grunts, rolls into a sitting position. "What are you doing here, Jay?"

Jason was hoping Bruce wouldn't ask him that, wouldn't ask him why he isn't back playing house with Harvey, or sprawled out somewhere snorting lines off Roy's chest.

He doesn't want to admit that he's doing something so needy as checking up on Bruce, so he says, "Come on, B, even murdering bastards shouldn't be alone on Christmas."

"Hm," Bruce says. He's definitely still drunk, but his hand is steady when he puts it on Jason's shoulder, moves up to his neck. Jason leans into it, and Bruce says, "I didn't get you anything, you know."

"That's okay," Jason says. "I'm sure you'll figure something out."

"Hm," Bruce says again, and without pause he gets his hands under Jason's arms and lifts him into his lap like he weighs nothing.

"Oh," Bruce says then when he sees Jason up close, the bruise on his face from fighting with Dick. He decided to take Christmas, of all days, to tell them all that his FBI boyfriend was about to arrest Bruce.

Not all of them, just - Bruce.

"I'm saving us all," Dick said, after about the fourth time Jason tried to punch him and Tim pulled out one of his knives. "I thought it was a good Christmas present."

"Barfight," Jason says now, and Bruce shakes his head. "I never could hold you back," he says.

"No," Jason agrees and he lets go, leans in, mouths at Bruce's bottom lip until he opens up for him.

"Jay," Bruce says.

"Yeah," Jason says. He bites Bruce's cheek, then laps at the spot. "I still fucking hate you," he says.

"I would imagine so," Bruce murmurs. He pushes Jason's shirt over his head, traces the scars on Jason's abs and the new set of bruises on his stomach. "But you're the only one that's here."

Because Harvey's crashed out in their bed, and Dick's off getting gangbanged by the FBI or whatever, and Tim's doing - whatever scary shit Tim does in his spare time.

"They just don't hate you _enough_ ," Jason lies, and Bruce kisses him, hot and heavy and demanding, biting through skin the way he crawls his way into everything Jason tries to do.

They're going to lock him up, and Jason's -

Jason's pretty sure he's going to let them. For his skin, for everyone else's.

He always figured they'd all die in a raid, in a shootout, that one day he'd disappear with a few thousand dollars and never see any of them again. He used to think it wouldn't hurt.

He presses against Bruce, tries to curl inside him the way he used to, when he was smaller than Dick and twice as mean.

"You're shivering," Bruce says, pulling away to look up at him.

"I'm not," Jason says, because he is, of course. He used to wake up in Bruce's bed in a cold sweat sometimes, sure someone or something was after him, and Bruce would push him down flat on his back and hold his face in his hands until he remembered how to breathe again.

It used to make up for the times Bruce would throw him out of the car in the middle of nowhere, Europe with nothing but a knife and say _you need to learn how to find your way back._

Bruce unbuttons his jeans, slips his hand inside Jason's boxers and Jason shuts his eyes and rocks into him, whines when Bruce _stops_ and says, "Come upstairs with me."

It's not a request, and for once Jason doesn't try to bite back at it, just stumbles to his feet and follows Bruce to his bedroom, watches himself dumbly as he slides to the floor and mouths at Bruce's cock through his sweatpants.

"Jay," Bruce says, and the noise Jason makes isn't human, the rage in his body isn't _manageable_ , so he pushes Bruce's sweatpants down and _sucks_ until he feels halfway human again.

Bruce holds his head with both hands, slows him down. Jason scrapes him with his teeth and Bruce jerks back but Jason holds on like something awful and clinging, something he hasn't been since he was _sixteen_ and set one of Bruce's cars on fire because he ignored him for too long.

"Okay," Bruce laughs. "Come on, Jay, let me."

He eases Jason off gently this time, brings him to his feet and helps him out of his clothes. Jason can't remember the last time they stood like this, in this room, the last time he was here because it's where he _belonged_.

They're going to take this house, and everything in it.

He bends over the side of the bed and Bruce kisses his neck, bites at the ink on his shoulder. He squeezes Jason's ass as he pushes his legs further apart with his knee and asks, "Will it make you hate me more if I tell you I missed you?"

"Yes," Jason says, and Bruce kisses down his back, licks at his hole. "Fucker."

"You won't stay," Bruce says. He steps away to grab lube from the nightstand, slides two fingers in roughly. "This will have to be enough."

Jason cries out when Bruce hits his prostate, tries to back into it but Bruce holds him steady with one hand on his hip. "B," he says.

"I know you're ready for me," Bruce says, slipping his fingers in and out, playing with him. "You always are."

"Do it," Jason says, and Bruce thrusts into him all at once, and Jason's suffocating with it, and it's _perfect_.

"God," Jason says. He can barely hold himself up, feels himself slipping down to his elbows until Bruce grabs him and drags him back up, flush against him, breathing whiskey onto his neck.

"That's right," Bruce says. He bites Jason's neck until Jason cries out and kicks at him, then pulls away laughing. "Noisy slut," Bruce teases, and Jason wants to deny it, but he can't when Bruce has him spread out and bucking against him, trying to get him to fucking _move_.

"Fuck me," Jason says, and Bruce pulls out and then in again, just enough to knock the breath back out of him.

"Jay," Bruce says, dragging out his name like a guitar solo, running his hands up and down his ass and thighs. "Do you beg him like this?"

"I," Jason stammers, looks back and bares his teeth. "Shut _up_ ," he says, and Bruce laughs again.

"That's all right," Bruce says. "I did, too."

Jason _knows_ , remembers the sounds of the two of them rattling the house whenever Harvey would stop by, and it used to make him murderous, used to make him pour gasoline on Bruce's favorite books, but -

"I want him to taste me on you," Bruce says, and Jason shudders, squirms, but Bruce doesn't budge. "Just like I could taste him on you."

"Please," Jason says, and this time Bruce listens, rocks into him once and then starts to fuck him, brutal bed shakes that make Jason scream, that block out the noise in his head telling him this could be the last time, the last time, the last -

He comes shivering, untouched, collapsed face down in the mattress with his teeth gnashing the sheets like something inhuman and when he looks back Bruce is still fucking him mercilessly, his eyes fixed on Jason.

*

It's just turning midnight when Jason gets home, throws his clothes back off and crawls into bed next to Harvey.

"How is he?" Harvey asks.

"He's," Jason says. He hasn't told Harvey about Dick's fucking insane plan, and he probably won't. "He's Bruce, is all."

"Mm," Harvey says. He turns over to face Jason, slides one bare leg over him trapping him against him. "You didn't stay," he says.

"No," Jason says. He slides his chin into the crook of Harvey's neck and remembers for the thousandth time today that Harvey did everything he could for Bruce last time, went to _prison_ for him and never so much as complained, would probably do it _again_ , and Jay -

"No," he says. "I didn't."


End file.
